


Demolition of Death

by Knives4bullets



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Did I say angst?, Fake Character Death, Gen, Heavy Angst, I'll warn you you will most likely cry, M/M, Mental Breakdown, My OTP, Pain, Quillsh Wammy/Roger Ruvie, Suffering, This is probably the saddest story I will ever write, also L is dead, but AU where gay marriage was legal in Britain in 2006, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:16:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knives4bullets/pseuds/Knives4bullets
Summary: Quillsh Wammy died on the 5th of November 2007.This was the harsh truth, and it had been two years.Roger has still not stopped bringing tea into his office at the late hours, has still not moved anything in his room, has still not stopped dialing his number every now and then, despite knowing that death is irreversible and that Quillsh won't come back.When the man he had loved for so long appears on the Wammy's House doorstep 390 days later, shivering, soaking wet and much, much older than he was when he left for the Kira case, Roger has to come into the terms with everything he had grieved over for so long being an illusion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm glad there's finally some fanfiction for my OTP, even if it is bad and written by me.
> 
> It is kind of an AU where Quillsh lives after L's death, because Rem only killed L, but for obvious security reasons, Quillsh also fakes a suicide.  
> Also, gay marriage is legal in Britain since 2005 in this
> 
> And some other minor changes for reasons.

It had been two years.

When he heard of Quillsh's death, Roger didn't quite accept it. Quillsh was an intelligent and cunning man, surely he would find a way to survive. He had so many connections, both with lawful side and the criminal world. There was no way he could just die like that during a case, for anyone else it would have been possible, but not Quillsh!

Roger remembered how he had taken Mello and Near into his office to tell them that L was dead, remembered how he had just barely stopped Mello from leaving by convincing him that there still was a chance that it was a false alarm - but days passed and became weeks, one of the men Quillsh and L had been working with called him and sent the bodies for funeral, and it was held in the nearby church.  
It was a cold December day when two coffins were lowered into their graves, next to each other. Roger took care of the newspaper reporters not appearing to the funeral- he knew Quillsh wouldn't have liked it.

He remembered it too clearly - the white coffin that belonged to L, and black one where lay the elder. His body seemed so fake, like just a toy, just something used for a play - because it couldn't be real, _it couldn't be real,_ Roger kept telling himself. But _oh, it was_.  
Majority of the orphanage had come to the funeral, and for once, the children's silence had been agonizing. Roger could recall every single detail - the coldness of tears rolling down his face, the hard feeling of the ring he had intended to propose with in his pocket, the dark silk of the tie Quillsh had given him last christmas, and the _church bells - the bells had hurt the most._  
Once the ceremony was over, Roger stayed behind to kneel next to his grave and sob. "Quillsh," he had whispered, "I'm so sorry - I wanted to ask you earlier... Please answer me... Quillsh..." It had been hard to speak through the sobs, but he managed, _he had to manage_ \- and then, Roger had taken out a small box from his pocket, covered in dark blue velvet. With shaking hand, he had opened it to uncover a golden ring with a shining blue gem on it. And now, more quietly than he had before, Roger had sobbed - "Ever since we first met a bit more than fifty years ago, you have been perfect - I have loved you since the very beginning, and I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. Would you finally marry me after all these years?"  
But the proposal had been met with silence, for there had been nobody who could have heard it anymore.  
Furious, Roger had bit his lip to suppress a scream and then, brushing away the tears, he had thrown the box into the snow.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was unbelievably rainy on the night of 1st of December, 2009.  
Despite the rain clattering on the windows, it was painfully quiet evening. The nights like these were when Roger missed **him** the most - and on the nights like these he put aside paperwork for a moment and looked out of the window, took a walk in the halls to check over the children, almost as if excepting to see Quillsh walking next to him like nothing had happened. Once he was sure that the children were all sleeping, Roger always checked into Quillsh's room.  
_It was always empty._

And _oh, it hurt_ so much every time he opened the door and didn't see the other man, no matter how much time passed. It hurt even more when Roger accidentally made two cups of tea, one of them strong and plain with just a drop of milk, and knocked on Quillsh's office door only to receive no response. The office was empty, but it still looked like Quillsh had just gone away for a moment. There was a book titled _The Trial_ laying on the dark wooden table, a piece of paper still between the pages. There was still a notebook open, a shining black pen laying on it, unfinished sketches of various machines exposed to the air. A photo of them together, smiling, holding their hands around each other was still standing there, and Roger did _not touch anything_ despite the fact that there was dust on the surfaces, the pages of the notebook began to slowly turn yellow, and he so wanted to see, what Quillsh had been reading. Of course, there was nothing stopping him - but Roger was still waiting for Quillsh to return, and part of him also feared that all hope would disappear, should he make a slightest change in Quillsh's room.

This night, Roger was quite bored. There was nothing to do anymore -  the paperwork was finished, he didn't want to go into the greenhouse, the insects seemed quite uninteresting and useless as of now, there was no book he wanted to read - _no, there was one book Roger wanted to read, but he had to ask Quillsh first._  
The former headmaster's office wasn't far - in fact, it was located next to Roger's. He knocked, and as he opened the door without awaiting a response, it _creaked_. Roger's eyes widened, he stopped on his tracks. It had been _so long_ since the door had creaked - it rarely happened, but when it did, it always somehow seemed to echo through the orphanage, and whenever it happened, _Quillsh_ was the one who opened the door.  
But the room was empty, there was no-one in it. Regardless, Roger closed the door - this time, it made no sound - and faced the desk, " _Quillsh, dear,_ " he said, and the words echoed in the empty room, " _Can I borrow this book on your table?_ ".  
There was no response, and Roger nodded. " _Alright, don't overwork yourself,_ " unintended tears began to flow, and now his voice was shaky, " _ **Goodnight.**_ "

By the time Roger started patrolling the halls, his tears had dried, and suddenly the rain seemed so loud, muffling out his thoughts. Roger wasn't sure what time it was - but it must have been past midnight, perhaps one o'clock in the morning.  
And suddenly, Roger jumped as a faint _click_ echoed through the empty halls, and before he knew it, the man was hurrying to the front door - it couldn't be, he was the only one who had the key... No, wait, Quillsh had one too, but he didn't take it with him, did he? Thinking back, Roger did not recall seeing the key on the table - but he hadn't checked the drawers, and it was impossible, Quillsh couldn't be -

By now, Roger had reached the door and was unlocking it, and as he opened the door, he wished he had checked who was on the other side.  
"Quillsh," He whispered, tears starting to stream down his face again. "No," it couldn't be, it couldn't, Quillsh was dead, Roger himself had -  
"No. I'm going mad. It can't be. You - You're dead. I knelt by your grave, I - I..." Roger found himself unable to say any more words, and the older stepped inside. " _Roger_ ," his voice was still as Roger remembered it, perhaps a little more hoarse than usual, and Roger closed his eyes, shaking his head, "No. Go away. I am hallucinating - it's about time I'd go to sleep. You can't be alive," his words were shaky and uncertain, as if he was lying to himself - but Quillsh didn't let it last, he closed the door behind him and gently, took a hold of Roger's shoulders.  
"Roger, look into my eyes." The older demanded, but Roger didn't react. "Look into my eyes - am I lying? I am alive, I know about the funeral, I know that it has been hard - but I am alive, can you hear me, Roger? I am right here. Alive."  
There was nothing but clatter of rain for a moment, before Quillsh sighed. "Please," the demand turned into a plead, "Roger, please listen to me - I'm here, alive, Roger..." tears started to appear into Quillsh's eyes, and his voice was becoming desperate, "Roger, please, please open your eyes. I am alive, trust me, please believe me-" he stopped abruptly, and whispered, "Do I have to convince you?"  
Nothing but silence, and Quillsh pulled Roger into a long, passionate, _pleading_ kiss - and Roger opened his eyes and kissed back, it had been so long, _so long..._  
Roger pulled away and nodded. "Quillsh," his voice was full of yearning, but he was so happy, and relieved...  
_"You are alive_."


End file.
